


Maybe in the next life

by Thirteen_Winter_Vixens



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 15:42:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2698316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thirteen_Winter_Vixens/pseuds/Thirteen_Winter_Vixens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin no longer want to take part in Arthur's version of their relationship. He leaves for good. Both of them have to live with the consequences and pray for a second chance. Previously posted on fanfiction.net.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gone

Merlin's knuckles were turning white around the stone wall in front of him and his chest seemed heavier with each breath. He inhaled deeply trying to prepare himself for what was about to happen, what had to happen. Closing his eyes, the image of Camelot's lower city engraved behind his eyes. He felt, rather then saw him approach, Merlin opened his eyes slowly, looking down at the reconstruction of Camelot's market. Arthur's presence was always sensed, Merlin's magic and soul reaching out in welcome and twitching back in pain. Arthur leaned against the wall, his hands fidgeting in front of him, a rare glimpse of nervousness. Silence spread out between them, a rift more than just friendship, more than just physical, they both knew they were changed irreversibly and now eternally doomed in their relationship.

Arthur sighed finally and said quietly, "You don't have to do this. It...it can still be the way it was." Merlin smiled wobbly, he couldn't hold back the choke of a sob. Arthur was fooling himself, and for the past two years Merlin had gone along with it. Hell, for the past five years, since the day they met, Merlin had followed Arthur, his prince, his best friend, his love. And it came down to this.

Merlin remembered the first time they kissed. It felt like such a long time ago, back when Arthur had been a prince and Merlin just an everyday servant in Arthur's eyes, a terrible one too. Arthur had slain a unicorn and had to past the test of the poisoned chalice, he had stolen Merlin's cup and Merlin thought that he had lost Arthur, until he found out it was just a sleeping draft. It had been horrible and then once Arthur woke up Merlin still had the words of the keeper in his mind, 'He has shown what lays in his heart.' Merlin couldn't help what he did and was surprised, relieved and ecstatic when Arthur responded to his kiss. They hadn't spoken about it for months until suddenly one morning Arthur backed him up against a wall in his chambers and, thank god, they kissing again.

Merlin took another deep breath at the memory, smiled as he remembered their naivety, as they slowly progressed to lovers. Their relationship has always been complex, changing as they felt more for each other, Arthur had always pushed him away, interrupting their time together with comments like, "I'm a prince Merlin," and "I will need an heir one day." Merlin never forget, he just wanted to. Then, Gwen entered their relationship and Merlin had bit his tongue at the knowledge of them together. Arthur and Merlin knew Gwen loved Lancelot more, they both knew Arthur loved him more. It was why now, even married and the threat of Morgana and Mordred now defeated, Camelot rebuilding and becoming even stronger since the war ended, Arthur proposed letting this sham of love continue. He made a well sounded argument too. Arthur needed Merlin to help bridge the gap between the magical laws and Camelot's traditional ones, people from both sides trusted Merlin's leadership, Arthur needed Merlin to advise him on issues concerning magic and the Old religion. Point was, Arthur needed Merlin.

Merlin remembered the last time they had made love. It had been two months ago. Morgana had massed an army of druids and sorcerers more powerful than Merlin had yet to face. It finally seemed like the end of Camelot and Arthur had come to him that night for brainstorming. Merlin's rooms were large now, full of magical books and shelves of potions that Arthur always fiddled with. Arthur had never been angry at Merlin for his magic, only that he hid it for so long, and the fact that Arthur had only found out after a particular stunning orgasm from said prince made the situation both awkward, frightening and light hearted. Arthur had eventually shook his head, flopped back down onto the bed and grinned that grin only for Merlin asked, "Think I could make you do that again?"

They spent hours sitting at the table sipping wine and staring into the fire, finally, Merlin snapped his head up remembering an ancient battle attack he read about, it was old, not used for many centuries. Arthur didn't like it much he could tell as he explained where to place the men, but it was unexpected and perhaps with luck they could pull it off. It was long past time Arthur returned to his chambers but still he sat in silence starring at the diagrams of battle plans. His eyes looked up at Merlin, so intense that Merlin knew immediately this was what drew Arthur to his rooms. Merlin could never help himself when it came to his King. He gave in. They had crashed on Merlin's bed, naked and fierce in their passion. Merlin moaned at the feel of Arthur's skin beneath his hands, tracing the old scars on his body. Merlin had long ago memorized everything about Arthur, his moods, his expressions and most of all his body. He knew how to draw out a smile, a laugh, a moan and could make Arthur cry out, lost in him. Lost to this love that was more than everything. Arthur moved inside him slowly, prolonging the torture and pleasure anyway he could. And Arthur had that night allowed Merlin to position himself on top, allowed Merlin to move as deep as he could inside him until Arthur was shaking, grabbing at Merlin so hard it would bruise, until out of control and lost in each other they came together in body and soul, as if both knew this was the final time, the last of them. They had fallen asleep intertwined, and Merlin's last thought were warm and pleasant. Arthur hadn't smelled of Guinevere for the first time in a year, Merlin could pretend his King was just his.

"Merlin?" Arthur drew him out of his own thoughts, his hand warm, large and familiar curling around Merlin's. Merlin finally turned to Arthur. Blue eyes locking on blue and Merlin's heart clenched. God he loved Arthur, so much it was painful knowing what he had to do. His heart rejected the very idea. But he knew he was changing. Camelot was changing. Everyday, he looked up at the high table to stare at Gwen, one of his oldest friends and all he felt was jealously and hate. It was becoming harder to hide it and he knew Gwen knew, their friendship had dissolved as she became Queen. She was the perfect image of one, the people loved her but Merlin could only fake so many smiles and she now only spoke politely to him and only in court, otherwise they were silent. Her eyes held all the apologies and guilt a person could hold and it made him feel ashamed also. It was too much.

He didn't want to turn into a creature of hatred and rage. He had seen too many people destroyed over those emotions. Merlin squared his shoulders feeling them hold the weight of the world, squeezing Arthur's hand he said what he had been dreading and putting off for years. "I love you Arthur, forever, but you know this can't go on. It should have ended a long time ago. I have to leave now." The last part he choked out as Arthur's eyes filled with despair, panic and fear. He was already shaking his head but Merlin stopped him cupping Arthur's face in his hands. "Merlin..." He cut him off by slowly kissing him. Arthur tensed at first.

They were outside on the wall, in plain view of everyone in the city. They both knew they were being watched but then Arthur realized this was it, it, the end. The End. He held on to Merlin more tightly than he ever had, deepening the kiss, clutching on trying to silently convince them both that this was not it. Not yet, not now.

Not ever.

Merlin was pulling away and it felt so difficult that both their hearts were hammering in fear. When Merlin finally stepped out of Arthur's embrace there were tears streaming down his face and with the most amount of will power he never knew he had, Merlin turned away from Arthur's pleading expression, and walked down the stairs to the gardens and to Kilgharrah. He collapsed onto the dragon's back and sobbed. The dragon for once didn't need an order. He spread his wings and flew, silent into the bright blue sky.

Arthur had collapsed also, but on the exact spot he had held Merlin that last time. He sat there, numb to the core, half of himself dead and never to revive. He cried silently, and didn't move, not when his knights had worriedly tried to move him, not when Lancelot hugged him brotherly. Not even when his wife, her eyes knowing, had knelled beside him and kissed his check and pleaded for him to come inside. It was now night, Arthur hadn't been aware of time passing. Then she was gone, pressed back into the castle by his knights. Had he ordered them to take her? He wasn't sure. He didn't know anything except Merlin, his Merlin was gone. Forever.

It rained that night, hard, drowning the sounds of the night. Arthur didn't move, didn't feel the chill of the night air. How could he feel?

His soul was gone.

 

* * *

 

 

 

It would be ten long years. Ten years of ruling a peaceful and prospering kingdom when Gwen finally left Arthur. The people cried out in disdain; in outrage. Gwen had been their hope, their queen and she was nothing more than an adulterer. It was dishonourable, a horrible act of betrayal for all of them! Arthur did what was appropriate, he banished both Guinevere and Lancelot from Camelot, although, he had given Lancelot enough gold to set up a nice estate in a neighbouring kingdom. How could he blame her? They had known from the beginning what they were doing, and since Merlin's departure, Arthur had never quite been the same.

He had managed after a year of illness and dark depression to bring himself back into society. He had to be the king Camelot deserved after his father's rule. He had to be the king Merlin had believed in so devoutly. But King Arthur and Arthur the person were once again separate people. He had not been accustomed to being alone after all those years with Merlin. Even with new knights and commoner blood and equality now more assessable to those who truly deserved better, Arthur was once again alone in life. Even with Gawain, Percival, Leon, Lancelot and Guinevere, friends and brothers and yet no one to truly open up to when he needed it. It was just too personal for his knights. Arthur had boundaries with them and they kept well across the line in respect.

So Arthur ruled alone, Queen-less and heir-less. He knew Guinevere had left because of the baby. He had noticed, even if no one else but Lancelot knew. He also knew it wasn't his, and he was relieved not to put the weight of the crown on an innocent babe's head. After a year or two, his advisers asked him to produce an heir, asked which princess he thought would be the most suitable. Arthur was king of Albion he could choose anyone, any woman would love to be Queen. This was commonly associated with a scowl at the old queen. Arthur would normally smile secretively at this, the image of a dark haired youth running wild in a small village somewhere west of Camelot. Of a laughing little girl or boy that babe had turned out to be. And still Arthur had hope, that maybe Merlin had heard, that he'd return.

So Arthur went Queen-less and heir-less.

And as the years passed his advisers asked, pleaded, begged and even ordered him to choose a queen. But still Arthur looked upon the people of his kingdom and only held a small glimmer of love for them. He had once held Camelot and Albion in a full fire, would have died a hundred times over for her. Now his only thoughts turned to Merlin and where he was, what he was doing. Would their love last beyond this life that duty had stolen from them? Arthur believed it. Merlin after all, had said forever, and forever was Avalon. Arthur sat, proud, regal, and dignified; all sadness and longing and need trapped behind a mask that never lifted. Arthur, after all, had always been a good liar.

Merlin spent his years wandering from forest to mountain. He ventured farther and deeper than any before him, reaching secrets none had even dreamt about. He helped magical users when he came upon the old ways, druids, sorcerer's, witches living in villages, in forests. He set up schools and laws, wrote books and had them copied, soon to fill every shelf of every sorcerer. He spent most of his years flying though, until Kilgharrah curled up into a cave high up in the mountains, Merlin had sat petting his friend's nose and finally asked what had plagued him for so long. "Was this how it was meant to turn out?" His voice held all the pain and sorrow as it did that day. And slowly the old dragon answered and as always it lead to more questions than answers. "Merlin, destiny works in many different ways. I am very sorry you had to go through this terrible curse but Arthur became king of a great and noble land, you succeeded." Well into the night, the dragon fell into a deep sleep and Merlin was left wondering if he truly did. Kilgharrah did not reawaken and Merlin, after spending the day with him, finally made himself leave. He wander for years then, completely alone. The news of Guinevere's betrayal reached him slowly and for many years he was consumed with going back, fighting on every level of his instincts. Arthur needed to produce an heir and he thought now, that maybe too much time and distance had come between them.

And then time came when Merlin returned to Camelot.

Arthur was ill. In fact he was past ill. He had been bed ridden for weeks, though only in his early sixties, he was weak. The revolt of a neighbouring kingdom to the north had attacked one of his villages. Their last stand against the wide spread use of magic had been easy to silence but not well enough to miss the arrow to his chest. The wound itself was healed by one of his court sorcerers but the illness wouldn't budge.

Everyone now heard...King Arthur of Albion was dying a slow and painful death.

Arthur was sure he was hallucinating. The fever had made him relive many memories of which he wished he buried deeper than he had. All were of his lover, his friend and he wished he could purge them from his mind. In this point of his life he had great many regrets, shame that could not and would never be erased. He wasn't and never had been as strong as Merlin had thought and he felt so much desperation for just one more touch. And Merlin was there. Tears streamed down the King's face, the first in years of what had felt like forever. His emotions that had been in check for so long now, raged up to smother him and Merlin was laying beside him.

"Arthur?"

Arthur's eyes snapped open, he wiped at them to vanish the blurriness. Merlin...Merlin was real. He was too solid, too warm to be something of his imagination. His thoughts could never reproduce the exact feeling of his lover. Arthur almost had a heart attack as Merlin's eyes bore into his. Both of them taking in what the years had done to their bodies. And Arthur didn't have to strength to hide his blush in both awe and shame. Merlin had taken age gracefully, in fact he looked better than he ever had. So beautiful, wild almost, Arthur felt ugly and uncoordinated next to this fey of his old friend, something he never would have expect from Merlin. His hair was long, he had grown stubble, that reminded him of how Gawain had once supported the same look. Grey hair was at his temples and in his whiskers. Lines were at the edges of Merlin's eyes, his body now tan from all the sunlight he had received over the years. His body seemed bigger, he had gain weight and Arthur guessed at some point had been muscular, Arthur breathed in sharply at the image it made in his mind. He wanted nothing more than to touch him, to see if indeed this was real or a torture from his heart. But Arthur frowned at the sickly paleness beneath the tanned face.

Merlin too, was examining Arthur, his grey hair was only just noticeable, the blonde making it easier to hide, it was slightly wavy now, still short but longer than it had been. Lines darted from his eyes, his body more broader but less muscled than Merlin remembered, though he'd bet on some days he could still beat almost all of the younger knights. His eyes were flashing between dull and alive as he starred back at him. Arthur reached out, slowly scarping his knuckles against Merlin's short beard. Merlin smiled his eyes watering and his heart hammering at the first touch of someone in years. And it was Arthur.\ He leaned in, nuzzled the hand, just as familiar as it always had been and Merlin didn't miss the sharp intake of air from Arthur. Merlin was light-headed, weak; unnaturally so. He knew what was going to happen, they both did, once again completely aware of the future, of their path. Arthur smiled at him, his eyes alight knowing this was real, this was Merlin and he was crying and laughing softly at the same time.

Then, Arthur asked softly, unsure and hopeful, "Why aren't you kissing me?" Merlin didn't move, causing Arthur to tense beside him, his eyes now downcast but then Merlin spoke, already moving closer. "I love you, my prat," He whispered next to Arthur's lips. Arthur was smiling when they touched. It wasn't ferocious, hard or fast but a slow, soft and deep kiss; not lacking in passion or need but simply joining together. Neither would ever forget the pains of the past but right now it was just them, together. Merlin curled up next to his king, both feeling weak. Arthur was dying and Merlin would go with him. It wasn't magic or devotion to his king that had bonded them together, but the undying love between them, not king and servant, or king and warlock but Arthur and Merlin. Two sides of a whole and one could never truly live without each other. "I love you Merlin."

Merlin after all, would always follow Arthur, it was just what he did. What he was born to do.


	2. Second Chances

Merlin sighed flopping down at his desk. New school, new classes and he hoped his mother was right about sending him to London for high school. His great uncle Gauis was the advanced history teacher so he already had read the books for this particular class. It was the afternoon of his first day, he had met Gwen Hart, a pretty girl from art class who was dating a jock named Lance. Merlin glanced up and smiled recognizing the guy. He smiled widely back at him, "Hey Merlin, I never knew you were in this class." He dropped into the seat in front of Merlin, turning to face him, "How's the day going?"

Merlin rolled his eyes, he had just seen Lance two periods ago at lunch but grinned anyway, he seemed like a nice guy, "Not too bad, but the day isn't over yet." Gauis came in then, getting the class to hush up as another dark-haired guy sneaked in, seating beside Lance. He looked back at Merlin and squinted tilting his head, "Merlin," Lance said gesturing, "This is Gawain Castle. Gawain, Merlin Emrys." Gawain nodded and smiled, his smile wolfish and predatory, yet fun and wild. Merlin had a feeling they would get along. No one really expected Merlin to be a trouble maker, but he usually stumbled upon it and Gawain seemed like a fellow adventure seeker.

"Hey Merlin." Gawain turned back to Lance and said, "I told you this year is going to be interesting." Then he turned back to Merlin, "Merlin, as in the Merlin?" Merlin blushed and responded, "Yeah, mom's a big romantic Arthurian history lover." Gawain grinned again, "Same. Named after the best knight after all." Gauis started class and Merlin didn't really have to take many notes, they were going over medieval times, and yes, even the legends of Camelot and the such. Once again, Merlin would have to put up with the teasing and drama of having freaking Merlin as a name. No one was named after the great sorcerer, not even druids now a days used it. 

Twenty-first century, he silently screamed at his mom. For awhile, he thought of going by his middle name but really Andrew never matched him. Then halfway through his class, his head snapped up, his magic reacting to something he couldn't see. Another reason why his mother had named him so, apparently, it had been only an hour after he was born that Merlin had been making blankets fly over to him and cover him more tighter. His mother had then gone over all the histories of sorcerers all the way up to King Arthur and his rule for peace, which continued even today, many still under the same laws drawn up by Arthur and Merlin themselves.

The door opened and though it was quite, Gauis turned and frowned, "Mr. Pennric, I expect my students to be on time for class." The blonde guy was beautiful, he nodded and looked around. The only available seat was next to Merlin, the new guy no one was quite sure about yet. Arthur sat down not stopping in his starring at Merlin as Gauis continued with the lecture. "Do I know you from somewhere?" Merlin too stared the odd feeling of familiarity, yet nothing else. Just a good feeling about the person in front of him. Like the others he met today and for some reason he knew he'd meet more soon.

He grinned, "Merlin. My name's Merlin." Pennric couldn't help but smile as well, drawn in by Merlin's goofy grin, "Arthur. Arthur Pennric." Merlin nodded recognizing the name as one of the Lord's of England. Gawain spoke again, only loud enough for the four of them to hear, "Told you this year is gonna be interesting." Meanwhile, Arthur and Merlin's knees brushed each other, both heart's beating at the same pace. 


End file.
